Until The Cows Came Home — LIFE ILLUMINATED TRAVEL

First published October 3, 2010

No longer do I have to, "wait until the cows come home," I got to see them do it! Parading through the street of the alpine village of Saint-Cergue I watched the cows come down from their summer grazing to their warmer winter abodes. When we first arrived I feared we had missed them because no cows were in sight. The only the sight...and stench was the brown "muck" that they had trailed behind them down the full length of the road. But no, soon enough another group of them clamored down the hill.

Now, this was no ordinary cow herding event. At first I thought someone had stolen Chiquita Banana's headdress...then realized oh no, wait, those are flowers not fruit. We're talking 21/2-3 foot tall floral headdresses crowning the heads of already massive cows. They bobbed back and forth as the cows tromped down the road. Like pendulums--yellow and red flowered headdresses swinging one way as their ginormous cowbells clanged the other.

We also enjoyed watching traditional dances performed by couples fitted in classic wears and awed over the sights and sounds of the chorus of alphorns. We indulged in fresh roasted chestnuts and churros--no, not like the cinnamon sugary sweet one turning in the glass case at the mini mart, but ones made of fresh squeezed dough then fried and covered in chocolate (if desired). Very similar to the Spanish ones. We also savored some of the local wine as we wandered around the booths.

We relaxed in the sunken park located in the center of the oval-shaped paved road where all the booth and cows were. The atmosphere was spectacular! Perfect weather, mid 70's, a light breeze, lush green mountains cape, kids playing in the jungle gym, climbing up the nearby tractor, or throwing hay at one another... We had free reign for great people watching!

Part way through our meal we noticed a woman beginning to shave the bark off of the huge logs laying on the grass in front of us. She worked seemingly effortlessly as she scraped and peeled it off. She then took a smaller tool and like using a cheese slicer backwards she pushed it forward along the tender yet strong wood and cut off strips about 2 feet long. I had no idea what she was doing until she brought out a round block of cheese and realized she was slicing wood for the cheese boxes! Okay, this may not seem all too exciting to you, but it was to me. It's so rare one gets to see every step that goes into the food they acquire. Back in the states I assume everything is just manufactured by some machine in some factory in some town I am totally disassociated with. All I ever experience is selecting my cheese from the gazillion options in the refrigerated dairy section at the grocery store and then taking it home to eat. There's just something really special about seeing the cows your cheese comes from, seeing the people who spend their lives tending to the cows, and then seeing the person cuts to wood to make the box your cheese is held in. Talk about an increase in appreciation. Quite the local cultural experience and fun-filled adventure!